Once Is Never Enough: Revenge Never Sleeps

By Monique Gliozzi

Larissa La Roche, heiress to a multimillion-dollar wine production empire in Napa County, has led a privileged life. Married, living a life of luxury and loving work as a flight attendant with a major airline, she seems destined for success. One day that all changes. Tragedy strikes, leading her down a path of deception and destruction. When her dormant, tragic past returns to haunt her and revenge never sleeps, is anyone safe?

Isabella Ashford returns as Special FBI Agent Ashford to hunt down this unusual suspect, tenaciously venturing across the United States and into Europe to stop the dangerous sociopath in her tracks.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Jun 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9780228879220

Monique Gliozzi

Born in Dublin, Dr Monique Gliozzi, a graduate from the University of Western Australia medical school, has a keen interest in forensic sciences and psychiatry. She works as a psychiatrist in Perth, with ties to the UWA School of Psychiatry, where she has had a role as a Senior Clinical lecturer. Her love for teaching has granted her a nomination for an Excellence in Teaching Award in 2016.Monique also holds an interest in aviation. She trained at the Royal Aero Club of Western Australia, where she obtained a commercial pilot licence. Following this, Monique completed her instructor rating and is now working on a casual basis as a senior flight instructor.Monique has only recently rekindled her passion for writing starting with the fictional thriller, Foresight.

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Prologue

Napa Valley is a slice of Californian heaven, just north of San Francisco, where hundreds of wineries dot the fertile soil. It is here that, among other exceptional wines, award-winning cabernet sauvignon is produced and later shared with the world.

Just outside St Helena in the middle of the valley was a medium-sized vineyard belonging to the La Roche family, and the home of young Larissa. In partnership, Larissa’s parents and her paternal uncles took pride in generating high quality produce, intent on remaining competitive not just in the region of Napa County, but nationally. Larissa’s father, an ambitious man of French heritage, had his sights on the international market. The harvest had been outstanding for the last couple of years, bringing his goal within reach.

Rows of luscious blooming vines ready for harvesting decorated the La Roche’s 600 acres positioned on a south-facing, sun-drenched slope. The Tuscan-style brick home had been strategically erected at the top of the hill by Larissa’s grandfather, a stickler for hard work, almost as a lookout from where he would commandeer his growing mini empire.

It was on a late summer’s morning that Larissa stood at the edge of the half-moon driveway lost in memories of her father’s childhood stories. The dew had evaporated, leaving a chilly freshness in the still air, a sensation on her skin which she’d always loved. "Respect for nature is important," his words rang in her ears, with such clarity as if he were standing next to her. It was something that, growing up, he’d learned to appreciate from his own father, who knew all too well that in this business one’s livelihood depended on the elements.

The distant roar of a jetliner cruising at altitude temporarily interrupted her train of thought. She gazed upward, sighting nothing but a cloudless pale blue sky. As she shifted her gaze down toward the symmetrical vineyard, more memories flooded her mind, this time of playing hide and seek with her younger brother and cousins in the large storage cellar.

A gentle tap on her left shoulder followed by her mother’s soft voice brought her back from the past.

It’s time, honey. Grace had been married to George, Larissa’s father, for five years before they’d decided to start a family. Larissa’s grandfather had viewed his daughter-in-law with suspicion, being heir to the competition. However, as time passed, it became obvious that she was devoted to his son and the La Roche legacy. Studying her at this moment, Larissa noted that although elegant in the plain long black cotton dress which matched her own, there were signs of emotional strain on her still youthful face. She smiled at her mother as only a child knows how in such circumstances and accepted her mother’s extended hand. Together they walked toward the black limousine destined for the funeral home, never suspecting the events that would follow.

Chapter One

Napa Valley, 1995

A successful harvest is a cue to celebrate and rejoice in the fruits of one’s labor. This occasion was no different for the La Roche family, who, after contending with natural disasters from bushfires to heavy rainfall in previous years, finally had a stroke of luck. The gravel nature of the soil in which their vines grew, along with the sunny Californian climate, provided ideal conditions for a marvelous crop.

It had been a while since the sounds of laughter from guests attending a dinner party had echoed throughout the lavish home. Close family and business acquaintances sat dining around the long oval table, set immaculately by the housekeeper. Grace, Larissa’s mother, sat at the head of the table. She had a flair for entertaining her guests with humorous anecdotes of her travels across Europe as a young fine arts student. Her ability to describe in perfect detail the people and culture of each country left those listening mesmerized and yearning to visit those very places. Larissa’s grandfather, a widow, contributed to the conversations with his own experiences revolving around his time of national service and fighting for his country in World War II. Her father’s twin brothers, Uncles Martin and Michael, also known as Marty and Mike, listened on, amused by some of the exaggerated accounts.

This cabernet sauvignon is just heavenly, Claire observed in her usual soft velvety tone. She and Marty had been married for eleven years without any prospects of having children. While everyone in the family wondered who was to blame for this misfortune, nobody openly dared to point fingers, let alone broach the topic of whether something could be done about it. Despite this lacking, they were a happy and well-matched couple.

Care to describe it, my sweet? her husband encouraged.

It’s full bodied, high in acidity, with a subtle aftertaste of tannin. The bouquet is one of black cherries and a hint of vanilla. Also, credit to Grace, it’s been chilled and served at the perfect temperature.

Which is what? he asked, teasing his wife while winking at Grace.

60 degrees Fahrenheit, she replied confidently, while playfully swirling the deep red liquid in a large glass with an elongated bowl.

Although only ten years old, Larissa was observant enough to note Uncle Mike’s condescending demeanor toward his brother’s wife as the light banter continued. Mike had been divorced twice before, each time having married impulsively at a little walk-in chapel in Las Vegas. Larissa learned by eavesdropping on conversations between her mother and aunt that Uncle Mike’s exes had worked as chaperones at one of the casinos. They themselves had only met each young lady once during the honeymoon period of each union, never to be sighted again. His second wife, Candy, had been feistier than the first and by all accounts demanded alimony, despite the brief duration of the marriage. According to Mike, she threatened to kill him if he denied her what she thought she was entitled to. Mike refused to give in and, according to him, She just got tired of pestering me and went back to live with her mother. Larissa’s parents thought it a bit strange after such a battle of wills, but with their own lives to navigate, thought nothing more of it.

So now Uncle Mike, single and miserable, appeared to envy anyone who was happily paired. As the evening progressed, he was becoming more antagonistic toward those who seemed happier than himself. Larissa and her brother Daniel watched in silence as the mood of the evening turned to a more serious tone.

Alcohol and jealousy don’t mix very well, Larissa whispered to her brother, who was shoveling chocolate mousse into his mouth as if someone were trying to steal it.

After finishing their dessert, Larissa and Daniel were excused and given permission to watch an hour of television before bed. It was just after midnight when the hosts parted company with their guests.

That was a lovely evening, Grace commented to her sister-in-law.

It was, Claire replied.

Got a minute, Grace? Mike asked, his manner serious.

Sure, she answered hesitantly.

Everyone but Grace and Mike retreated to their quarters of the large mansion. Alone in the well-furnished formal lounge room, they stood at the mouth of the fireplace eyeing each other with suspicion.

Larissa awoke to the sound of a midsummer storm raging outside her window. Sitting up, she listened to the thunder and lightning accompanying the sound of a deluge, swept by forceful winds, hammering mercilessly onto the sides of the house. Thirsty, she tiptoed out of her room, through the broad corridor and down the mahogany winding staircase through the foyer. Suddenly she stopped. A familiar voice drew her closer to the lounge room where through a partially opened sliding door she was faced with a horrible truth.

You’re a liar and a cheat, Larissa heard her mother hiss. Not to be trusted. George even said so.

You know nothing and that stupid brother of mine, your dearly departed, the golden boy of the family, didn’t know shit. Threatened to have me cut out of the will. I build this company! I am entitled to what I worked for! Mike said, raising his voice.

Really? You were busy galivanting around the countryside, fooling around with any girl that came along and gambling without a care. How is that responsible? Grace retorted angrily.

It’s none of your business what I do with my time.

Fearing detection, Larissa took a step back from where she stood, remaining in sight of the unfolding scene.

Well, someone has been cooking the books for the last couple of years. George noticed the discrepancy. That’s why the accountant was let go. Remember? But after that, since the numbers still didn’t quite add up it was obvious that someone else was massaging the figures. That someone was you! Grace accused.

Well, it’s done now. Georgie got what he deserved. You’re no better, Miss Goodie Two-Shoes, always in his ear about something. His tone was cold, matching the cruel expression in his eyes.

What do you mean he got what he deserved? What did you do? she demanded, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. What did you do to him? she repeated.

Larissa recalled the story of her father and his brother scuba diving on that fateful day. She suddenly realized how Uncle Mike had shown no empathy toward the grieving family, comparing it to how her other aunts and uncles had been there for support. What was her mother saying?

‘What did you do?’ Mike repeated, mocking her tone, gradually advancing toward her. ‘What did you do?’ He stopped in his tracks and, like a predator, taunted his prey with threatening stillness. Suddenly, he lunged forward, knocking Grace to the ground. You bitch! He got what he deserved and now you’ll get the same grand treatment, he growled, wrapping his strong fingers around her slender throat.

Using all her strength, Grace fought back, but it was in vain. Pinning her arms to the carpeted floor with his knees, he continued to apply pressure until the body beneath him ceased moving. Unaware of the innocent ten-year-old standing behind him, he remained sitting on the lifeless body, breathing heavily and laughing psychotically, satisfied by his accomplishment. Arching his back to stretch as if liberating his muscles of residual tension, he turned his head slightly to the right. Then, he saw her.

Hey there, pumpkin, he said calmly, his face contorted, flushed and sweaty. Instinctively Larissa backed away. Unable to scream, she did the next best thing to get help. Frantically scampering up the stairs to her grandfather’s bedroom, in desperation she banged on the door with both fists. Then, on impulse she entered the darkened room to shake him awake.

What’s the matter honey? he asked, concerned and groggy from his slumber.

Uncle Mike killed Mom! she shrieked. Then, everything went black.

Shocked by what he’d just heard, he placed the semiconscious child on the bed and covered her with a blanket. Then with a sense of urgency, the patriarch hurried to Claire and Marty’s room to summon help.

Claire, you stay with Larissa. Marty and I will deal with Mike, he instructed. A disturbing laughter echoed through the house, one that would cause the hair on the back of one’s neck to stand erect.

Hastily, both men made their way down the stairs just in time to find Michael unceremoniously dragging his victim down the corridor leading to the garage.

Hey! Stop! the older man yelled. What the hell are you doing?

Mike spun around to face his father. In a calculated voice he explained, Taking her to the hospital. She suddenly stopped breathing.

Larissa said you killed her. Tell me that’s not true, he replied, not believing what he was witnessing. Overcome by an eerie sense of calm, Mike released his grip on Grace’s ankles, letting her legs drop to the floor with a thud. Turning away from his father, he lit a cigarette and sat emotionless next to the body until the police arrived.

Chapter Two

Events in the hours following her mother’s murder were a blur in Larissa’s mind. She remembered paramedics and the coroner removing her mother from the home, the police examining the crime scene and arresting her uncle after, as a key witness, she had provided a statement. The officer in charge brought in a social worker to support Larissa, who was promptly turned away by her protective Uncle Marty who stated that according to his sister-in-law’s wishes, they would be appointed as legal guardians.

We don’t need social workers or psychologists to make things worse. The kids will be well looked after. No need for that nonsense. They’ll be fine, the grandfather stated emphatically, ushering the detective and welfare worker out of his home.

Daniel had slept though most of the ordeal. It was Aunt Claire who eventually woke him to gently break the news. The young eight-year-old curled up against her bosom and wept uncontrollably.

The funeral took place at the same venue as her father’s less than a year prior. Condolences were abundant but nothing could fill the void inside her soul. Orphaned, yet not abandoned, but emotionally alone. She knew that she would have to be strong and face her uncle in court. He’d hired an attorney who allegedly was going to claim temporary insanity.

Don’t worry, honey. He can’t hurt you. All you have to do is tell the truth about what you saw, Uncle Marty reassured. It sounded easier said than done.

As Larissa took on a more protective role toward her brother, shielding him from gossip at school and her own increasing nightmares, they grew closer. At night she would sit with Daniel until he fell asleep, before returning to her room and fighting to stay awake as long as her tired body would allow. The nightmares were always the same, beginning with her floating down toward the lounge, seeing the life being squeezed out of her beloved mother and Uncle Mike’s hideous contorted face filled with rage and hatred. Opting not to share these regular experiences with her family out of fear of being sent somewhere to rest, she endured the nightly event, which grew more intense as the trial approached.

La Roche Senior and Uncle Marty had summoned legal counsel from the best criminal lawyer in the county, Robert Jackson. Looking younger than his stated years, with a sharp curious mind machinating through facts meticulously, he was able to outsmart his opponents, who often underestimated his skill. His manner during their interviews in preparation for trial reminded Larissa of a younger version of the television detective Colombo, the main character in her mother’s favorite show. The only difference was that he’d traded the shabby raincoat for a gray pinstriped suit and navy-blue necktie.

This is my lucky tie. I always wear it for important trials. Believe it or not, it has magic powers, he stated at their final meeting, reassuring an apprehensive Larissa with a hug. Appreciating the kind gesture of encouragement, she smiled warmly, hiding the building terror behind intelligent blue eyes.

Chapter Three

Larissa’s view of Uncle Marty was that of a walking encyclopedia, capable of providing a little information on any topic, making him a great ally on quiz nights, which was a frequent form of entertainment at the La Roche residence.

"The Napa